


potential energy

by bigdamnher0



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Friends to Lovers, Mentions of Sex, Relationship Study, sentence fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:09:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26302465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigdamnher0/pseuds/bigdamnher0
Summary: Mark’s entire Good Guy spiel gets old pretty fast; Ten doesn’t particularly mind having his “virtue ruined” or whatever cardinal melodrama Mark’s stitched together to keep them from harnessing all this sweet, feverish potential energy, straight to its thumping core.(Markten in 15 sentences)
Relationships: Mark Lee/Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten
Comments: 3
Kudos: 50





	potential energy

**Author's Note:**

> Reposting this writing exercise from Twitter! Prompts sourced from 100_prompts @ lj and a word generator

**01\. danger**

Like that one time Mark walked into a bicycle’s path, fourteen and forgetting to look both ways, Ten careens into Mark’s bubble bearing a grin like whiplash, crooning,  _ hey baby; _ not a moment spared to pray the asphalt catches him kindly, before his skin bursts open with shock.

**02\. awkward**

“Did... something happen?” Taeyong asks him privately, after Mark squirrels away from Ten’s fingers the moment the film slate clacks, loud as a gunshot, and Ten cocks his hip, mouth wry as he watches Mark disappear around the hallway, saying, “Yeah—I fucked him so good last night, I think he’s upset about it.”

**03\. honor**

Mark’s entire Good Guy spiel gets old pretty fast; Ten doesn’t particularly mind having his “virtue ruined” or whatever cardinal melodrama Mark’s stitched together to keep them from harnessing all this sweet, feverish potential energy, straight to its thumping core.

**04\. compliment**

“Oh, wow, I mean—Ten-hyung’s, out of all the members—I didn’t mean to like,  _ look _ , you know, but when Baekhyun-hyung asked to shower together—and I didn’t mean to look right—haha, um— _ next question! _ ”

**05\. strength**

Ten collects Mark’s voice notes throughout the holidays they spend apart like they’re non-perishable emergency snacks; canning the sweet drop of his laughter and spooning it into his mouth on the coldest days.

**06\. crutch**

“The fans won't go away if you take a break, you know,” Mark offers, and Ten recoils with a laugh, tells him, “Darling, I’ll take your advice when you take yours.”

**07\. work**

Sometimes the stage is a knife they bleed on—first the cathartic high, then the slow-drip, an ankle folding on itself, the cold mutiny of a body, saying,  _ this is as far as I can go. _

**08\. jealous**

Ten quiets five minutes into Mark’s excitable charade, eyes locked onto a framed photo of Johnny and Taeyong by Mark's bedside, along with various Dream and 127 memorabilia—so Mark sighs, grabs his hand, and tells him the truth: “I have your huge ass WayV poster inside my closet—yeah, so shut up and let me finish my house tour, okay?” 

**09\. strings**

“You’re more than their little corporate puppet,” Ten tells him through gritted teeth, “so if you don’t like what they ask you to do,  _ speak up _ ,” admittedly too harsh and cutting for a newly-debuted idol to hear at sixteen, still hobbling through the world with rose-colored specs, and it’s what made all the difference. 

**10\. semantics**

No words are necessary at this point; just two bodies, a tightening cord, pushing and pulling towards a great unknowable  _ somewhere _ , a fevered loop that asks and claims itself: _ does this feel good, can I keep going, keep going keep  _

**11\. falter**

Ten slinks bare arms around Mark’s shoulders, tells him, “Bangkok, born and raised, baby, the gay capital of Asia, you know this. You _nervous_?” to which Mark hooks his fingers in Ten’s belt loops, levels his own brand of slick right back, and says, “Hm—should I?”

**12\. empire**

No two cities feel the same, but they all make the same sound, the same discordant, ancient roar;  _ ours _ , Mark translates, gripping Ten’s hand under the scorch of stadium lights,  _ we built this _ .

**13\. blaze**

All of Ten is a motion blur: dancing, humming, painting, splashing, dreaming, fucking, fucking  _ deep; _ he’s lucky Mark doesn’t mind the friction burn.

**14\. young**

“Missed you, hyung,” Mark mumbles into his chest, voice thick with sleep and the singe of Real Boy, who Ten now has a miraculous lapful of, who also promises him, “didn’t touch myself all week, like you asked,” and Ten just about creams right then and there, like he’s seventeen and discovered his right hand for the first time.

**15\. blank**

“Jesus, what  _ now _ ?” Mark wails, as they dart through the neon-slicked tangle of Bangkok, a horde of clicking cameras on their heels after their scandalous little  _ show _ , and Ten tugs Mark’s wrist, says, “Any fucking thing we want!” and sends a cackle ricocheting into the night, a glittering canvas reaching back.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on [twt!](https://twitter.com/prodjohnmark)


End file.
